


I Don't Hold Hands

by Ardatli



Series: Waves and Particles [3]
Category: Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Dom/sub, I don't mean gay sex although there's some of that, I have no interest in any Woke Takes on this one, Labels are for soup cans, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pegging, Porn with Feelings, Self-Indulgent, Strap-Ons, Voyeurism, but full on Queering of the possibilities, oh boy, queer sex, queer writer writing queer people having queer sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26093929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardatli/pseuds/Ardatli
Summary: Tommy has a sad. Kate has a plan. America has a strap-on.
Relationships: America Chavez & Tommy Shepherd, Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Kate Bishop/America Chavez/Tommy Shepherd, Kate Bishop/Tommy Shepherd
Series: Waves and Particles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/820536
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	I Don't Hold Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the early chapters of _And the Sky Bleeds Red_ , though you don't need to have read that one first. Really the only things you need to know is that everyone is a Jaeger pilot, Billy was injured and Tommy blames himself, and a while back, Kate dumped Tommy for America. Now she's taking care of him, because who else is going to do it?

Muscles sore but nerves alive, his skin tingling cool with sweat, Tommy racked the staff back on the wall and padded, barefoot, toward the combat room’s showers. His mind was on other things, but not so much that he missed the movement just around the corner, the lean, dark figure waiting for him in the shadows between the lights.

“Coming to watch me shower?” he asked without looking, hitting his locker with the side of his fist at the spot right above the sticky lock that made it pop open.

America didn’t dignify that one with a reply, crossing the floor toward him instead. He’d been competition, once, long ago and far away. The fact that she’d won had been a thorn in his side for a while, but even that was done and dusted now. So when he arched an eyebrow at her, with a half-smile, she returned it.

“Where are your other two-thirds?”

He slung his towel around his neck and scrubbed at his hair, sending damp bleached-white strands tumbling into his eyes. “Billy’s at physio and Teddy’s doing tactical review. Why?”

“Kate wants you to come by our room when you’re done.”

The rush and thrill the suggestion sent screaming through him shouldn’t have been so powerful. He took a breath, stayed frosty-cool, and nodded. The faintly amused, definitely knowing smile played over her lips again, and for a second—only one—resentment sparked red. Not at her; at himself for being so transparent, for letting her (them) get deep under his skin.

Tommy tugged at the ends of his towel, seating it around his neck, his black tank top sticking to the sweat beading down along his chest. “… Why are we doing this, ‘Meri?” Looking back at her over his shoulder gave him the pleasure of seeing a flash of bafflement cross her face at the question. At least he wasn’t the only one without all the answers.

“We?” was all she said, deflecting. He knew that trick; it worked well to give yourself time to think. One of the few cracks in her armour, one of the handful of things he knew now that he’d never been able to see _before_.

So he kept talking. “I get the pity fuck thing, but now that Billy’s back… Anyway. You. Me. Her. I’m not your type.”

She looked him up and down and shrugged, hands in her jacket pockets. “Nope.” And then her smile tugged up at one corner of her mouth. “Maybe I just like the reminder that I’m better with my dick than you are.”

They weren’t in her room yet, not in the safe space where he’d discovered a whole new set of rules worth breaking, but that had been a challenge. And he’d be damned if he was going to be a good boy and let it go by unanswered. “Those are fighting words, Chavez.” He reached out and tugged one of her curls, letting it go to bounce back into a perfect coil.

She let him do it. Then she reached over, slid her fingers into the hair on the back of his head and tugged, hard.

The sharp pressure-pain went right to his dick, goddamnit, his head tipping back to bare his throat for her, his breath catching and his pulse picking up speed. They were in the hall to the showers, not public but sure as hell not private enough to give in to the primal, _brutal_ impulse to drop to his knees. An involuntary reaction that was now practically programmed into his cells. 

He was _not_ going to give her the satisfaction of seeing that right here and now, but she smiled knowingly anyway. Then let him go.

His knees buckled a little and he could feel that his ears had gone hot.

“That’s why. If you’re coming, be there by twenty-one hundred.”

The rules had been laid out from the beginning, a directional triangle. America did the touching, not him—and Kate could do what she wanted to them both. Twice it had just been him being allowed to watch while they ignored him entirely, but even those evenings had fuelled a dozen awe-inspiring jerkoff sessions later.

He watched her go, no swing in her hips for him the way she flirted with Kate, or the way Kate sometimes looked at them both, heavy-lidded and flush with anticipation.

Even though there were a million things they never said, he went to their room anyway.

* * *

At two minutes to the hour he was in the hall, but he waited three before touching the buzzer. A little rebellion against being given marching orders. America had made the invitation but Kate opened the door, lithe and lean in just a uniform T and an old pair of his boxers that she’d stolen years ago. America sprawled easily across the top bunk, propping herself up to look as the door slid closed behind him.

The air in the room changed with the door closing behind him, the outside world cut off. Tension still sat tight in his throat but the rest of him started to loosen. _Safe here._

Kate waited him out, for the deep breath that banished the bands around his chest and for him to make eye contact, not as easy right now as it was outside this door. “How are you?” she asked, and it wasn’t right for Katie to be so kind and concerned, not over _him_. He’d never stop being a guilt-ridden mess, baring his teeth at the world and pretending it was a smile.

“Same old idiot rodeo,” he shrugged it off. “Billy won’t stop whining about recovery times and Teddy’s spending half his energy freaking out about _him_ , and the other half trying to hide the freakouts from everybody else. Ah, the joys of young love,” he cracked wise, not missing the exasperated look she gave him. “I’m glad it’s not me.”

“You’re so full of shit.” She laid her hands on his chest, fingers splayed out, her palms solid and warm through the lightweight cotton of his shirt. “And you’re useless at hiding it.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was all it took to lay him low. He’d known that coming in. He lied to himself all the time that it wasn’t one of the reasons he kept letting himself be pulled back. It was rare to find one person who cared enough to cut through the crap—two was impossible.

“Katie-”

“I know.” And she was in his arms, not small, never small—she was the universe, and all it contained. But she was light and he could pick her up with barely any effort, wrap her legs around his waist, kiss her and plunder her mouth. He lost himself in the press of her lips and the dark curtain of her hair, turning to let her lean back against the wall, his palm pressed flat against it for stability. He tasted smoke and chocolate, the faint tang of iron which meant she’d been in the Shatterdome or the repair floor where steel and ozone hung thick in the air.

He vaguely registered a faint thump behind him. That would be America sliding down the ladder from her bunk, followed a moment later by Kate breaking the kiss and letting go. Tommy lowered her down to the ground again as slowly as he could, taking the chance to slide his hands over her ass, her calves, her perfect thighs, the muscle tight under his touch.

Meri watched, her uniform pants slung low around her hips and only the standard issue black sportsbra keeping her heavy, full bust in place. A kiss from _her,_ a chance to touch those gorgeous tits, was most definitely not on offer. She kissed Kate instead as though to lick the taste of Tommy from her lips, their weird little triangle now complete.

Once she’d finished staking her claim—Tommy’s body reacting to the view in an annoyingly positive way—she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Anything we need to talk about right now?” she was always so careful at this stage, the depth of it something he hadn’t expected the first time. It was one of those moments when Kate’s choices made sense.

He shook his head, anticipation starting to coil low in his gut. “Same hard limits as always,” he said aloud, because she preferred it when he used his words. And he’d already started to slide into that headspace, where her opinion mattered more than anything and the rest of the world disappeared.

(Their limits had been negotiated months ago, when Kate had come back to him and brought Meri with her. A bottle of whiskey and they’d laid it out plain, expectations and requirements, absolutely not-s and yes-please-god-yes-es. Peeling his skin back to let them stare inside, to see that terrifying need – for someone to hear him, to want him, to have the chance to please her in any way he could.)

“Safeword?”

“Red.”

And the mood shifted again, America’s careful searching expression fading to be replaced with something more satisfied. There; his first job of the night and he’d already said the right thing. Kate was watching the negotiations with feigned interest, her gaze really lingering on America’s shoulders and arms, her bust, the visible and growing bulge in Tommy’s pants.

“Did you prep for me?” America asked and they were in it now, the world snapping into sharp focus. He held her gaze, his chin not up because she was an inch shorter than him. And no matter how she paced, circling him to look him over, he could still push back against her prowling-predator act.

“Who said anything about it being for you?” He timed it so she was behind him when he mouthed off, couldn’t see her face, but Katie was there and she could. And she smiled.

“What else could I want from a fuckboy like you?” The words were harsh but Meri’s voice wasn’t, the intimate murmur the widest possible contrast. His hair was too short up the back for her to get a really good grip but she tugged at it anyway, and like he couldn’t do properly this afternoon, Tom tipped his head right back. He exposed his throat—Meri did it for him—and Kate took the invitation. She moved to be in his arms again, her lips on his throat a benediction. She followed the soft kiss with teeth and then her tongue, soothing the bright spark of pain with the heat of her mouth.

He went to his knees, America’s hand in his hair and Kate’s hands on his arms. “Hands on your thighs,” America instructed him, sliding a caress along the underside of his jaw. “Be good.”

And then they let him go, to settle onto his knees on the hard-poured concrete floor of their quarters, left to catch his breath without hands or mouths or anything fun touching him at all.

They stood a few steps away, lost in a moment of their own—Meri unzipping her trousers and leaving them to sit open on her hips while Kate helped buckle on the harness. She pretended (or not) to give the small silicone dildo a handy while she did. America laughed, soft and low, but her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, leaving the lower curl gleaming and wet. Like it _was_ her dick, like the long slow strokes of Kate’s fingers were turning her on.

It would turn anyone on; hell. Tommy watched the rise and fall of her hand and could practically feel it on his own skin, the way she’d grip him tight, the curl of her wrist at the top and the stroke of her fingers on the down- he’d been feeling the rising heat before but now the burn flooded through him, an ache that built in his gut.

Neither of them was looking at him, down on the floor, the concrete cold against his knees. Tommy cleared his throat to make them remember he was there. “What’s the plan, girls? You going to make me choose between you?”

“As if you could,” Kate swept her hair back over her shoulder, which gave him a full, clear view as she ran her tongue down Meri’s clavicle, bent her head to trail that shimmering wet line down between her breasts. The teasing came naturally to her the way some other things didn’t; it derailed his train of thought all the same.

Meri held Kate’s hair back for her, drew in a breath at the touch, her eyes dark. “That’s not how this goes,” she reminded Tommy, not looking at him. “You just do what we tell you.” 

It wasn’t enough, the air cool around him where he’d been warm only a few moments ago. He pushed again. “So tell me to do something already. Or I could go take a nap-” He pretended to yawn, and that seemed to do the trick. He closed his eyes for a second and Kate was in front of him when he opened them again.

She stroked along his shoulders, grabbed his t-shirt and hauled it off over his head,

He went where she put him, his hands sliding up her bare thighs, the thin cotton of her (his) boxers not containing her scent, her heat. He sat up on his knees, pressed his mouth against her inner thigh, breathed her in. The day started to slough off him, a too-tight skin that only they could help him shed. “Katie-” He grazed the folded edge of fabric with his fingertips, right up at the crease between her thigh and her mons. Slid up beneath and caught the hint of wetness between her lips-

Kate moved her hips once, only once, and God yes she was wet for him, but she pushed his hand away. “You didn’t say mother may I.”

“Rude,” Tommy complained, the pulse in his temple echoing in the aching throb of his dick. 

“Put that mouth to better use,” America suggested, from where she was leaning against the wall and watching, her hand idly moving over her strap-on. A warning—if he played this right, a promise.

“I like her ideas. She has excellent ones.” Kate bent down to kiss him, teeth clashing, before letting him go again. He tasted her through the fabric first, the dry cotton dragging rough against his tongue and lips. Nipping at the seam with his teeth he pulled it snug across her skin, the nub where the seams aligned putting pressure on her clit. There, between her thighs, her boxers were damp and she keened at the feel of his mouth. He tugged the leg to one side and bared her skin to his lips, the ripe sweetness bursting across his tongue.

“Lose the shorts,” America ordered her, and because Kate wasn’t Tommy, wasn’t obedient at all, she ignored the command.

“Do it for me,” Kate bossed her right back, and Meri’s eyes glittered. Tommy held the damp cotton aside with his thumb, dragged his tongue along her folds, listened for the catch in her breath. He paused only in the moment when Meri joined them and stripped Kate bare, his lips wet with her. Here, here she was his again and though they’d both changed over the past year some things never did. Like the ache in his chest when he looked at her, laughed with her, caught the edge of a sly smile-

Or now, Kate’s bare leg hooked over his shoulder, Meri behind her, hands on her waist, her hips, her breasts. She teased at Kate’s nipples, America’s lips dark red against Kate’s skin, now flushed pink.

Meri took her from behind, the strap-on sinking into Kate and she went tight, the taste of latex on Tommy’s tongue, the rising pace of her movements frantic now and building.

The familiar ache pulsed in him, his body untouched. It wasn’t his turn yet, no-one had said he could; he should have faith in them, but what was faith when the rasp of fabric against his skin was sandpaper-rough, Kate’s thighs like silk? Tommy dared to try, to palm himself through his pants and stroke, take for himself what they were refusing to give him.

Pleasure shot up his spine, fierce shock at the contact. His mouth on Kate, his cock hard against his hand, and all around him the gasping sounds and thick musk of sex-

Meri’s toes pushed his hand away from his cock. “You need to ask first.”

Kate’s thigh served for a momentary headrest, and he turned his mouth against it to muffle his groan. Letting go was worse than not touching at all had been, everything tight and needy. “I want-”

But she was remorseless, not caring about his needs even as she fucked his ex-girlfriend right in front of him. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

She slid out of Kate and left room for him, for two fingers, three, sinking into her, crooking and finding the places she needed touch the most. Tommy put his mouth on her again, drawing circles with the tip of his tongue, memorizing her smell, the taste of her lust, every sound and movement she made as she fucked down on him in ever-increasing desperation.

Kate shook above him, convulsing and tightening around his fingers, pulsing that made him want to scream. His head was spinning from it, the throbbing need to be there, slide deep inside her and feel her tight around his cock, perfect in a way nothing else in the world ever could be.

She came because of him, because of his mouth on her clit, his fingers crooked inside her, America’s mouth and hands on her breasts, her lips, the back of her neck. Kate rode it out on him but it was Meri’s arms that held her, kissed the sweat-tears from her face.

Tommy gave her everything, let her ride it out on his hand until her tremors stopped. His hand wet, he licked his fingers clean, He was leaking already, pre-come dampening the cotton of his boxers, Kate’s taste everywhere in his nose and mouth, his body trembling. And still they left him sitting there, Kate winding around America and kissing her, hands on Meri’s breasts, fingers sinking into her curls.

“Not yet,” America warned him, the flush sweeping down her cheeks, Kate’s mouth on her breasts. “Hands on your knees.”

“You’re being cruel.” There; Kate would rescue him, save him from this unsoothed burn- Except no, because Meri bit her lower lip, tugged at it with her teeth and Kate laughed, went back to kissing her without a second look in his direction.

And he stayed on his knees, nails digging into his own thighs, his mouth wet and everything hungry. He was going to die like this, concrete-hard and bloodless everywhere else, the beats of his heart throbbing in his cock and Kate’s pale hands and red lips on Meri’s brown skin the last images burned into his brain.

It would be worth touching himself again; could he come before Meri noticed and stopped him? Anything would be better than waiting and watching while Kate flirted and teased, made sure he was watching as she went to her knees and wrapped her (ruby red and sinful, _God_ , her lower lip gleaming as she licked it) lips around the tip of Meri’s strap-on and bobbed low.

He could _feel_ it, knew exactly how it would feel to have her mouth on him, her tongue pressure-hard against the underside. His hips moved without conscious thought, rutting up against the air with no relief to be found.

“Come over here.” America called him, finally, and he was released from purgatory, his knees trembling as he got to his feet. Two steps and he was over to them, grabbing the ladder of the bunk bed for support.

“Remembered I was here, did you?” There was the spark of satisfaction at pushing back, not quite as much swagger as he wanted but it was hard to focus.

“I can always put you back there,” Meri threatened, her voice cool, and he knew she would do it. She’d done it before when he’d mouthed off once too many times, kept him a prisoner of himself for hours. He shut up.

Kate knelt in front of him, stroking her hands down his arms, thighs, even that contact making his hips jerk toward her; _touch me, please-_

“Relax, Tommy.” _Hah._ “We’ve got you.” And she sank to her knees again, tossing a pillow from her bed beneath them. Kate knelt at _his_ feet and ran her hands back up his thighs, everything in him vibrating at her nearness, her thumbs on the creases of his hips, her breath warm through his trousers. Then, because she was just as bad as Meri even though she swore she wasn’t, she cocked an eyebrow at him and smiled.

_Shit._

“Can you hold still for me?”

And Meri came to his rescue because, even though she swore she didn’t, she took care of him as though he deserved it.

“With you looking at him like that? _Querida_ , you know he can’t.” Her hands encircled his wrists and pulled them against the small of his back. She stood behind him, so close that the hard line of her strap-on pressed tight against his ass. And she held his hands snug, entrapped and secure.

Kate teased down his zipper, her fingers light, dancing over the bulge there and never lingering long. His body screamed to be touched, pressed, rubbed, anything to ease the ache, only a tiny bit of relief coming when she popped his button and slid his trousers down. Boxers next, she left them both around his thighs, her breath on the head of his dick a new exquisite torture.

She kissed his belly just above the head of his cock, and came away with her lips glistening. Then, oh God then, she did it again, tasted his dick, a sweet, soft brush of her tongue. Everything, this was everything, all the sensation his body had ever been able to feel bundled into one brilliant sparking burst of pleasure.

Kate’s mouth, ruby red and hot, traced the vein along the bottom of his cock and everything in his body cried out. _Push in, take her, thrust and claim her – give her everything you are-_

The guttural moan he heard was himself as her mouth closed over the tip. Her tongue teased him, with pressure and just enough contact to swirl around him before she was gone again. Not enough, not nearly enough. Tears burned the corners of his eyes, his arms straining against America’s hands holding him in place.

She kept him tight, her arms strong and her body a pillar. When his head fell back and his knees buckled, her shoulder was there.

He could see it, feel it gathering in his spine, so close, and he’d barely been touched, Kate’s hand sliding between his legs to cup his balls, her lips on the head of his dick and not taking him any deeper, America’s hands holding him tight so he couldn’t move. “I’m gonna-” he confessed, a plea for forgiveness because he couldn’t hold on.

But America only squeezed his wrists in warning, her breath hot on his ear. “No, you’re not.”

And then Kate was gone, the sensation with her. The tears in his eyes this time were real. One more touch, another brush of her lips, her hands, her _hair_ and he’d be done for, nerves vibrating like plucked strings.

“Not until you have permission, chico. Not your choice to make.”

He had to – had to settle, keep it down or maybe they wouldn’t ask him back. If he did well, if he was good, they’d keep him for themselves, let him earn forgiveness for everything else he hadn’t been able to control.

(He hadn’t been able to, but they could; he could give it over, let two pilots carry the weight of one.)

With that incentive he managed, only barely, to drag in a deep breath, his eyes still squeezed closed. If he looked at them—both so beautiful, dark hair, dark eyes, red lips, breasts soft and full, high and tight, and Jesus _Christ_ if he couldn’t get back off that edge he was going to come all over himself without being touched again at all.

And Meri held his hands tight until he could breathe again, come down off that tightrope and open his eyes.

Tommy’s heartrate slowed, the urgent rush of blood ebbing slightly, but only slightly. He drew in a deep breath, pulled the air right down through his chest, and Meri breathed with him. She didn’t let go until he nodded, then rubbed his wrists lightly where her fingers had been, the skin tingling.

Kate had a condom packet in her hand and the latex rolled on slick and easy. He stole a kiss, tender and sweet, a distraction from the pull of her hand on his dick, the way she cupped him tight at the base. “You’re a menace,” he told her as he broke the kiss.

She scoffed at him. “Like there was any chance of anything else?” Then that warm hand on his balls gripped and held them tighter, not quite too much but just on the verge of pleasure/plain. His thighs went tight, his body rigid, the memory of tenderness a fleeting vanished thing. “I want you to hold on. You don’t get to come until I’ve had one more.”

He nodded, the cool touch of the latex a reminder.

Meri spoke from behind him, his conscience in his ear. “Use your words, chico.”

His tongue thick in his mouth, his breathing shallow, he struggled to make the sounds. Kate traced her finger over his lips, thick with the taste of America’s sex, with hers—sharp-tinged musk and sweetness. Tommy gasped for air and she slid her finger in, traced the tip of his tongue until he nipped at it, sucked on it, found his voice. “I’ll do anything you need.”

“Good choice.”

Kate tugged and Meri prodded and he went with them, onto the bottom bunk. Kate stole her pillow, put it back beneath her head and left him to kneel above her. America joined them, her trousers still tucked around her hips below the harness strap, her cock with its own condom now and a bottle of lube in her hand.

Face down, he felt her rather than saw her, warm wet fingers circling his hole, teasing and testing the edges, sliding down to cup and tug at his balls, leaving trails of cool dampness behind.

On his hands and knees above Kate, his face pressed to her shoulder and her hands stroking lines down his back, he let himself be opened. Drifting with Billy and Teddy he’d caught the edges of similar images more than once before, no matter how much they tried to shield some things from each other. And some of those faint memory-bruises had (for them, anyway) felt pretty damn good.

A slap, bright sparks of pain and shock against his asscheek, jolting him back out of his own head and into awareness. Another swat and America was laughing at him, her golden cheeks flushed pink and her lips slightly parted. “Get back here.”

“Fuck you,” Tommy gasped out, a challenge, and she was back again with more slick, this time with a firmer, punishing pressure that he deserved. He breathed into it, relaxed for her.

And then Meri was inside him, one finger, two, stretching him out to make a space for herself. “Behave yourself.”

It hurt, a glorious bruised, used and bone-deep ache that never fully went away, no matter how much lube.

“Fuck,” he breathed out again, and his voice hit his own ears as husky, rasping and needy. And “please,” because his body was empty, waiting for her rubber cock to press him open and expose everything to the rush of sensation.

He was flagging as Meri slid her fingers in and out, past the burning ring of muscle. Too much to focus on, pressure building up in a half-dozen places, he was down to half-mast and not caring.

Kate wrapped her hand around his dick and stroked him, bit down on his shoulder to add to the wave of _feeling_ that was already too much to bear. There; he aroused again, the rush of blood more powerful even than the first, swelling into her hand. America inside him, Kate around him, hands only for the moment but that wouldn’t last either.

She lifted her hips and he grabbed for her thigh, pulling it up and over his hip. Meri slipped out of his body and the empty space inside was too hollow, too lonely.

_Don’t leave me here alone._

He rocked his hips and his cock slid along Kate’s folds, her hips rising to meet him.

_I can’t be without you._

There was the pressure, the friction, the _heat._

He sank inside her, Kate’s legs wrapped around his waist. Tommy propped himself up over her, his arms straining, rocking inside to seat himself deep. Too much, too much all at once, an explosion of pleasure, the burn already surging through his body. Too snug, and he fought the urge to move faster, to thrust deep and pull them both towards the sparking fire behind his eyes.

And every time he pulled back, Meri was behind him, pressing in. The tip of her cock was slicked with lube, warm from her hand, a lot smaller than his own thank _god_ , but she was relentless, and if he wanted to fuck Kate-

 _God,_ if _he wanted??_ He needed and she was the centre of his world, breasts firm against his chest, sweat beading along her throat and bursting in hints of salt on his tongue.

If he wanted to fuck her he had to _(needed to)_ get fucked in return. He pressed his face down against Kate’s shoulder, fists gripping the sheets, while Kate’s hands slid over his shoulders, across his nipples, her teeth scraping little flashes of pleasure-pain from his bottom lip, along his jaw.

Meri’s hand pressed gently, insistently, on his lower back, holding him steady. She was there.

Kate tightened around him and he cried out. “Get a move on,” she ordered him, her voice smiling.

Tom rocked his hips back, and America pressed inside. She split him open, pushing past his defences, an inch, maybe more, and the cry ripped from his throat. Forward and she moved with him, but he was buried deep in Kate again and the heat of her body was an inferno. Back and Meri went deeper, until they were moving together, all three of them, Kate around him and America inside him, empty again when she pulled back and stretched wide when she returned.

He was fucking Kate, trying to keep his mind on her, on finding her pleasure. On her nipple plump against his tongue, on the way she responded to him, her cries and-

And all the while America fucked into him, her nails scraping stinging lines down his back, a hard knot of tension sending off sparks every time she thrust, tightness behind his balls, lightning building in his spine, the sheets sweat-damp in his fists and-

Always, ever Kate beneath him, legs tight around his waist.

Tommy heard himself begging as though from far away, driving himself back against Meri’s hips, burying her deep inside him, chasing the fierce, raw sensation that lit fires all the way up into his gut. “I can’t, Katie- I can’t-”

“You can. You will. Wait for me.”

He slid his hand down between their bodies, found the hard nub of her clit with his thumb. She rubbed against it, took him deep, deeper, and then she was shaking, her back and neck arched. He bit at it, teeth scraping along her throat, and she convulsed around him, shook and dug in her nails. And when he pushed into her again she tightened down around him, and he was so close, so desperately close that he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the knowing that he _had to wait._ Because _she_ (they) had told him to.

Kate urged him on, then, her nails digging into his back. “Go, Tommy. It’s okay now. You’re being so good. You’ve earned it.”

Oh shit – there was the permission he needed and he was free. No more restraint, either from Meri’s hand or the desperation of the ache inside his soul. Picking up speed he chased the rush, pleasure searing across every inch of his skin—Kate tight around him, Meri huge inside him, Kate crying out and digging her nails into him, every thrust more frantic than the one before.

Meri’s fingers wrapped tight around his balls. She slammed deep into his body and Tommy saw stars.

He saw a goddamned _supernova_ and he was gone, hurtling over the cliff, his vision white and his throat raw. Again and again, he pushed in, was pushed into, and the wave kept him riding through pulse after pulse.

_Jesus H.Christ_

Meri stroked his back, rubbed at the tender skin where her nails and Kate’s would have been marking him. She slipped out and this time he didn’t feel the sharp bite of pain. He collapsed onto the bed, empty and hollow and warm and sated altogether.

Beside him Kate was three fingers deep in America and kissing her, the two of them so wrapped up in each other that he could watch without regret. They were fucking gorgeous together, his own mind fogged over with bliss

_Strip off the condom and tie it off, getting rid of the evidence not the same thing as getting rid of the feeling._

America came, curled over on Kate and cried out. She rode Kate’s hand like she was a bronco buster in a rodeo, her cunt hot and her eyes squeezed shut, Kate’s hand shiny-wet.

Kate kept her going, doing something with her thumb on Meri’s clit that Tommy couldn’t see well from his angle, but Meri cried out _again_ and sunk her nails into Kate’s shoulders, the flush running all the way down her chest to the swells of her full breasts. Again she rode it out, sweat beading on her forehead, her chest, down the long golden length of her throat. He’d lick it—if he didn’t know for sure that she’d punch him even for trying.

They collapsed beside him, then Kate moved so that he was sandwiched between them, her hands on his back and Meri’s arm looped around his waist. “Not bad, Maximoff,” Kate said quietly, brushing his sweat-damp hair back from his face, her hand gentle and tender. “You do know how to show a girl a good time.” 

“You did well,” Meri murmured in his ear, holding him close and safe, the women a defensive shield against the world. “It’s hard to be good, isn’t it? That’s how I know you love her. You take care of her so well for me.”

(He’d been surprised as hell the first time she’d murmured things like that to him – less surprised after the cleanup when she’d threatened him with death if he ever let it slip, to anyone. It was his own private treasure, to wrap around his heart—the knowing, deep down, that he was special.)

He didn’t have to answer, they both knew. They knew and they let him in anyway, let him show them how good he could be.

Little spoon on both sides, and Kate leaving soft closed-mouth kisses on his lips, Tommy let go, and drifted into a hazy half-sleep. He’d have to get up at some point, wash and dress and leave this room, step back out into the world. But not yet. The innumerable weights off his shoulders, the only thing that mattered in the world was pleasing the two women who held him close. And tonight, at least, he’d done well.


End file.
